A Big Brother's Love
by twiandsuperfan
Summary: Sam is sick and like always, big brother Dean is there to help him through it. Contains Sick!Sam and Caring!Hurt!Sick!Dean and Caring!Bobby
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, so this is a little something that I came up with while studying for a German exam of all things. Let me know what you think, and enjoy! -twiandsuperfan **

**Chapter 1 **

Dean grabbed his cell phone from the seat next to him and quickly flipped it open, while taking another glance at his shivering brother's form. He sighed, wondering how his little brother had gotten so sick. It had started out with a simple cold, probably induced by spending a frigid, rainy night in the woods hunting a wendigo, and had amounted to what Dean had thought was a mix of pneumonia and the stomach flu. He and Sam had stayed overnight at another beyond crappy motel, hoping that Sam would get over this on his own, but after about the twentieth coughing fit, and sixth run that Sam had made to the bathroom to throw up, Dean had come to the conclusion that a crappy hotel was not where they needed to be.

If the choice of a hospital was an actual option, they would be high tailing their butts there, but with Dean's face plastered on the front of the FBI's most wanted list, that wasn't really an option…

Dean pressed the three button on his cell and hit call. The little tune that the phone made seemed way too happy at the moment.

"Dean, this had better be good… do you have any idea what time it is?" Came Bobby's gruff voice from the other end. In all honesty, Dean did not know what time it was, and after a quick glance at the clock he found it to be four in the morning.

"Sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep princess." Dean replied.

"Haha, very funny. Now I know that you didn't call to discuss my sleeping habits, what is it?"

"Bobby, Sam's sick, really sick, and I can't exactly take him to a hospital without being arrested, so I was hoping that you could help." Dean once again glanced over at Sam as he groaned and shifted in his sleep. Soon enough, Sam settled down again.

Dean heard grumbling on the other side of the phone before Bobby answered, "Boy, you know you don't have to ask, where are you now?"

"About five hours out, maybe four if I hurry, I just went through St. Cloud." Dean responded.

"Alright, I'll be waiting, call me if you need to." Bobby said.

"Thanks, Bobby." Dean said and then flipped his phone shut. He yawned and pressed on the accelerator, hoping to shorten the trip. He hummed "Fade to Black" as he drove, hoping to keep himself more alert.

Just then, Sam blinked his eyes open, confusion setting in on how he ended up in the car. His stomach twisted, and he felt his throat tickle with the beginnings of a cough.

"Dean?" Sam whispered in hoarse voice. He tried to clear his throat, but that only lead to a coughing fit. He hunched over in his seat and felt Dean's hand thumping on his back. When the fit subsided he noticed that the car was pulled over and Dean was looking worriedly at him.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked gently.

"It's Sam." Sam replied, before putting his hand over his tender stomach that was still rolling. The movement didn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"You gonna be sick?" Dean questioned.

Sam swallowed and nodded his head slowly, before opening the door to the Impala and falling out on his hands and knees, retching into the gravel. It was raining outside and the cold drops cascaded down his face and soaked his shirt. Dean was by his side in an instant, patting his back and whispering words of encouragement. When Sam was done, her leaned back onto his heels and let a small cough escape his shivering body.

After a few minutes Sam decided that he was good to go back in the car. He slowly stood up, his body wavering when he did, but felt his brother's supporting hand on his arm, and let his brother gently maneuver him back into the car. Once he was seated, Dean reached into the backseat and pulled out a tattered wool blanket and laid it over Sam.

"Thanks." Sam whispered as he pulled the blanket up to his neck, enjoying its warmth.

Then Dean reached into the backseat again, this time coming out with a thermometer and bottle of water.

"Sam, think you can drink some of this?"

"Not now." Sam answered, swallowing back the desire to throw up at the thought. He shifted uneasily and laid his fevered head against the Impala's cold window, shivering when the cold sent a chill through his body.

Then, a thermometer was thrust into his ear, making Sam jump.

"Sorry." Dean apologized while putting a hand on Sam's forehead. Sam leaned into the gentle touch and sighed. A beep broke the silence and Dean pulled the thermometer away, frowning at the little screen.

"103.4" Dean read out loud, knowing that Sam would want to know. "Sporting a pretty good fever there, Tiger."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Sam mumbled as he tried to find a comfortable position.

After he found one, he closed his eyes awaiting the peacefulness of sleep, but was disturbed by another coughing fit. He sat up and coughed into the crook of his elbow, grimacing at the fire boiling in his lungs. Once again, Dean's hand gently thumped on Sam's back, breaking the mucus that was choking Sam. Dean winced at the pain lines on Sam's face, and the red tone that was taking over his little brother's already flushed face.

Sam through open the door again and gagged into the puddles of water on the side of the road. Nothing was in his stomach anymore, but that didn't stop his stomach from trying to turn itself inside out. Finally, the glob of mucus that was stuck in Sam's throat was released.

Dean grabbed Sam around the waist and hauled him back into the car, closing the door behind him. Sam slumped into his brother's arms, exhausted. His heavy breath's wheezing in and out, with an occasional sharp cough.

"Let's get you to Bobby's." Stated Dean as he laid Sam's head on his lap and retrieved the blanket off the floor, laying it over Sam. He put the classic car into drive and soon they were off.

**So, should I keep going, or just end it? Please let me know, and thank you so much for reading! -twiandsuperfan**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, you requested it, so here it is… Chapter 2! Thank you for all of your support on the first chapter, and I hope that I can get that much lovely feedback on this chapter. Now, enjoy and don't forget to review! -twiandsuperfan **

**Chapter 2 **

As Dean pulled into an old, highly questionable gas station, in an unnamed and unoccupied town, three things were evident: One, Sam was getting worse and worse by the minute. Two, they were not going to make it to Bobby's today. And three, they needed to find a motel so Sam could rest without being crammed behind a dashboard.

Dean sighed as he replayed the last two hours of their horrendous journey, which had totaled five stops so Sam could dry heave our the door until his stomach decided that it was satisfied, twelve or more coughing fits… two of which led to more dry heaving, and one contributed to Sam nearly passing out when the fit didn't subside. And to add on to all of this, Sam's fever was still rising and was now soaring at an alarming temperature of 104.1, and it indicated no hope of stopping and no medication to help bring it down.

So, here they were at the only gas station or sign of life in miles, so Dean could maybe find some decent medicine, Gatorade, and also something quick to eat, considering that Dean hadn't eaten in nearly thirty-six hours.

"Maybe a bucket or something too." Dean thought to himself, remembering when Sam tried to sip on a bottle of water, only to spew it back out in a matter of seconds.

Dean scanned his worried eyes over his brother once last time and was happy to see that even though his baby brother was shaking violently and had more color than most of the corpses that they dug up, Sam seemed to be sleeping peacefully… which was exactly what his body needed right now.

Dean slowly opened the heavy metal door, trying to keep the old thing from squeaking, and said a silent thanks to whoever was listening, when it didn't make a peep.

He slid out into the cold morning air and stretched his cramped muscles, before heading into the gas station.

Behind the counter, a lean man with a tie-dye shirt and long blonde hair, looked up at Dean and closed his ancient looking laptop.

"Hey, man, can I help you?"

"No, I think I've got it covered." Dean replied while trying to suppress a laugh at the man's fake hippie accent.

Dean snaked through the aisles and was pleased to find a fully stocked medicine counter.

He examined the boxes and finally settled upon a cocktail of Tylenol Cold and Flu, Pepto Bismol, cherry Hall cough drops, and some sort of powder mix that claimed to help support your body's immune system.

Then, he made a beeline for the refrigerated section, where he acquired three bottles of blue Gatorade, a bottle of ginger ale, and a coke for himself.

He then ended his mission with a turkey sandwich and a bag of chips. Dean went to the counter with his items, almost forgetting about the bucket.

After doing a quick sweep of the premises he found them to be behind the counter… apparently used for fishing.

"That all?" The imitation hippie asked.

"One of those buckets too." Dean replied, nudging his thumb in the direction of the while buckets.

"A bucket and medicine… you okay man?" He questioned, while examining Dean with squinty eyes.

"My brother gets car sick, just preparing for the worst." Dean lied, not knowing if he wanted this strange man to know that his brother was sick.

"Hey, any motels around here?" Dean added as the though suddenly made an appearance.

"Yup, just about forty-five minutes from here there's a groovy place."

"Thanks." Said Dean as he paid and made his way back to his car.

He opened the driver side door and cursed when it squeaked in protest.

With a quick peek into the car, Dean was relieved to see that the high-pitched sound had not woken his brother.

Dean put the brown paper bag on the seat in-between him and Sam, and anxiously retrieved his sandwich, chips, and coke. He devoured his sandwich and chips and gulped down his coke.

Once again happy with a full stomach he turned on the car… forgetting how loud the engine is, and cursed again as he saw Sam stir.

**So, what did you think? Any requests on what happens? Please let me know! Thanks again for reading! -twiandsuperfan**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, luckily I have somewhat easy exams tomorrow, so I had time to write this chapter! So enjoy and thank you for reading! –twiandsuperfan**

**Chapter 3**

"D'n?" Sam slurred.

"Here, Sammy." Dean answered.

To say that Sam looked sick right now would be a huge understatement. Sam's face was sheet white pale, his limbs were trembling, and his eyes were glassy and somewhat unfocused.

"Don' feel good." Sam said before a coughing fit took over. Sam hunched over and coughed deep, wet coughs, it sounded painful and Sam's occasional whimpers only confirmed this.

Remembering the bucket, Dean placed it by Sam's overly flushed face, just in case.

"Sam, I got you a bucket, if you need it, its by your head." Dean informed Sam, before rubbing small circles on his back. When the fit finally ended, Sam stayed hunched over as he tried to catch his breath.

Dean could feel the rumbling in Sam's lungs through his shirt, and heard Sam's breath hitch off and on, most leading to a small cough.

After a few minutes of this, Sam straightened up and leaned back against the seat with a groan while he threw his arm over his now pounding head.

"How far-," Sam started before coughing a few times, "Until Bobby's?"

"Three hours, maybe two and a half," Dean responded and put a hand on Sam's forehead.

He frowned when he found it to be flaming hot and bone dry. Sam leaned into the touch, relishing the coolness and comfort that it provided.

Dean pulled away, and Sam sunk bank into his seat. He could feel his lungs rattle whenever he took a breath, each breath seeming to not be enough, and his stomach was turning again.

"Can't do it." Sam whispered.

"I know that, that's why we're stopping at a motel about forty-five minutes away for a couple of hours. I have medicine, which you should probably take too."

"No medicine." Sam pleaded. His stomach rolled with the thought.

"Sammy, your burning up and your not sweating anymore… I'm no expert with this, but I'm pretty sure that's a bad sign." Dean announced.

"Please, Dean." Sam begged. He put his hand over his stomach and swallowed back the nausea.

"Fine, no medicine, but you have to drink something, and I need to take your temperature." Dean concluded.

"Dean, I can't."

"Why not?" Dean questioned as he dug around in search of the thermometer.

"Stomach." Sam replied.

Dean felt stupid for not think of that before. Now looking at Sam, he could see that he had lost most of his color.

"Sorry, how about some Ginger Ale or Pepto?" Dean offered.

Sam shook his head and then moaned as the movement spun his head.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked upon hearing his brothers moan.

"Dizzy." Sam breathed as he leaned his head against the door, sighing weakly.

Dean laid a firm hand on Sam's shoulder and rubbed it gently, willing some of his strength to Sam.

"D'n?" Sam asked barely audibly.

"Right here, Sammy."

"D'n, I need to-," Sam then coughed lightly, "lie down, feel awful."

"You can when we get to the motel, but if you want, you could lay down in the backseat?" Dean offered.

"Can't move, stomach queasy." Sam explained.

Dean then moved the bucket closer to Sam and watched as he tried to quell the nausea. Dean rubbed his back and could feel Sam quivering beneath his hand.

"Do you want to try some Ginger Ale? It may help."

"No, gonna be sick." Sam warned before leaning over the bucket and starting to gag, spit, and cough. The only thing coming up was stomach bile and some mucus. Sam struggled to catch his breath in between each gag, and wrapped his arms around his clenching middle.

"You're okay, Sammy, just let it out." Dean cooed reassuringly.

"Dee," Sam moaned before coughing and gagging again.

When the nausea finally subsided, Sam was beyond dizzy and coughed as he tried to catch his breath.

Dean pulled him over so he was leaned against Dean's chest.

"Breath with me Sammy, come on, you can do it." Dean encouraged.

Soon, Sam had evened out his breathes out with Dean's, but still didn't feel good at all.

Dean just hugged Sam in his arms, while getting the forgotten blanket, thermometer, and bottle of Ginger Ale. He first wrapped the blanket loosely around Sam's shaking form, and then stuck the thermometer into Sam's ear. Sam flinched, making him cough feebly.

"It's just me, Sammy." Dean said before hearing the annoying beep and taking out the thermometer.

**What did you think? Any suggestions/requests for later chapters or stories? I'll try to update tomorrow or Friday, but it depends on whether or not my imagination decides to work… so thanks again for reading! -twiandsuperfan**


	4. Chapter 4

**So before you read, I am sooooo sorry that I didn't update sooner, but it appears that Sam's illness has rubbed off on me! Haha. So anyway, I finally got the chance to write this down, so here it is! Please enjoy! –twiandsuperfan**

**Chapter 4**

"104.7, Jesus, Sammy. We gotta get that down! Think you can drink some Ginger Ale and take a few Tylenol?"

"Pepto first, stomach's still uneasy." Sam requested.

"Okay, Pepto it is." Dean said, as he grabbed the little cup and pink liquid, and measured it out.

The smell alone made Sam feel worse, but he did know that if he didn't take it, he would only get worse. He swallowed convulsively, a movement Dean noticed right away.

"You okay?" Dean asked, pausing his pouring.

Sam gave a thumb's up, since he didn't trust opening his mouth right now.

Dean finished pouring the large dosage and resealed the top on the bottle before setting it down in the backseat.

"Okay, Sammy, you ready?" Dean questioned, knowing that his little brother's sick and fevered body wasn't strong enough to take the medicine himself.

Sam nodded and then groaned lightly.

"Still dizzy?" Dean guessed.

"Extremely." Sam whispered.

"Well, once we get some meds in you, you can sleep; sound good?"

Sam gave the okay sign.

"Here comes the train, Choo! Choo!" Dean chuckled as he put the cup to Sam's lips.

Sam opened up his mouth and let the liquid go down his throat; it might as well have been a five-pound weight when it hit Sam's stomach. His stomach clenched painfully.

"Dee…" Sam's voice wavered.

Dean grabbed the bucket and put it under Sam's head as Sam retched violently, bringing the pink liquid and more bile up. Dean winced in sympathy as Sam heaved again, leading to a mix between a cough and a gag.

Once he was done, Sam wrapped his arms firmly around his stomach and whimpered repeatedly. Dean saw tears forming in his eyes and wished that he could trade places with Sam.

Dean pulled Sam close and stoked his hair and rubbed his back soothingly.

"Sammy? Do you think that if you lay down, I could get moving? I'm gonna call Bobby and tell him to get one of his doctor buddies, but we would have to make to his house. Do you think you could do that?" Dean questioned, sad and angry that he was actually asking his beyond sick brother this. "Be honest." Dead added.

There was a pause as Sam thought about if he _could _make it…

"No, gah-," He wrapped his arms firmer around his cramping stomach, "still feel sick, stomach kills, dizzy, sorry." Sam whispered apologetically.

"Its okay, Sammy, I'll have Bobby come get us. What can I do?"

"Don't know, need fluids, but won't stay down." Sam explained.

"I know you do, do you want to try Ginger Ale?"

"Have to try, feel like I'm gonna pass out…" He closed his eyes and swallowed, "Fever above 105 causes seizures… need to get down."

Sam still amazed Dean at times, and this was one of those times, even though he was in obvious pain, and felt horrible, he was still a walking dictionary.

"Okay, let's try then. You with me?" Dean asked.

"Mhm," Sam replied and coughed a few times, "Hurry."

Dean could feel the heat radiating off of Sam's skin and it worried him tremendously! Dean grabbed the Tylenol and cracked open the Ginger Ale, omitting a hissing sound. He wished that he could make it flat in a matter of minutes.

"Sam, open your mouth." Dean instructed. He opened his mouth as Dean stuck in the two white pills.

"Small sip," Sam breathed.

Dean gave him a tiny drop and he swallowed. Sam closed his eyes and gulped loudly several times.

"Is it staying down?"

"Not willingly, five minutes." Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked confused.

"'Til it's in bloodstream." Sam explained back.

"I'll count for you. You can do this Sammy." Dean encouraged.

One minute: Sam was holding his stomach and swallowing continuously.

Two minutes: Sam was breathing faster, and appeared to be in pain.

Three minutes: Sam was moaning and was hunched over in his seat.

Four minutes: Sam had tears running down his face, and appeared to be in agonizing pain.

Five minutes: "Sam, five minutes." Dean announced.

"Bucket!" Sam barely calls out in time for Dean to thrust it under Sam's face.

The Ginger Ale made a reappearance, but the pills seemed to have dissolved, just like Sam said.

As Sam continued to heave he called out Dean's name desperately, until the bout finally subsided. Once again, Sam was coughing, trying to catch his breath as Dean held him close.

"Good job, Sammy." Dean congratulated. Sam swallowed and still appeared to be in pain.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Stomach throbs, more than flu, don' know wha-," Sam broke off coughing, "-t, Dee, call Bobby, needs to hurry, gonna pass out."

"No, Sam, no passing out on my watch!" Dean says quickly.

"Dizzy, Dee, need fluids, don' know how, check temp in twenty minutes, 'm try to stay awake." Sam said weakly.

"That's it, Sammy boy. Are you okay if I call Bobby, real quick?"

"Mhm." Sam mumbles.

Dean quickly gets his cell off the dash and hits three for the second time that day.

"Pick up, Bobby! Come on!" He begged.

Finally he heard Bobby's voice.

"Where are you boys?" Bobby asked.

"Bobby, Sam's not doing well, can you come get us? I really can't drive when he's like this." Dean explained.

"Where are you? What's going on?" Bobby asked anxiously.

"At a gas station about two and a half hours away, Bobby, Sam's temperature's at 104.7… probably higher now and he can't keep anything down. He quit sweating about thirty minutes ago and he says that he thinks he's going to pass out. Bobby, I don't know what to do!" Dean was now crying, Sam grabbed his hand, and squeezed it shakily.

"Jesus! I'll call Douglas; he works at a clinic not too far out. Dean, don't let him fall asleep, and try to cool him down!"

"How?" Dean begged.

"Wet a towel or something. Has he taken anything for a fever?"

"Tylenol, apparently it's in his system, but I doubt it will help, Bobby, please hurry!" Dean said frantically.

"I'll be there in an hour! Hold on!" Then, the line went dead.

**So, what do you think? Any ideas of what should happen next? Thanks for reading and I hope that you are enjoying a little sick Sam. ****-twiandsuperfan**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, here is the next chapter! I am so happy with the massive response to this story, that I decided to treat you guys to another chapter! Also, someone informed me that it was Dean's birthday today! And after checking John's journal, I found it to be true, so Happy 32****nd**** (if my math is right) Birthday, Dean! Enjoy! ****-twiandsuperfan**

**Chapter 5**

"He's coming, Sam, with a doctor." Dean informed.

"How long?" Sam asked.

"An hour." Dean replied.

"D'n, have to lower fever, too high," Sam stated.

Dean didn't have any towels… or water for that matter, but he needed to find something to cool down his brother's raging fever. Then, a thought occurred to him, it's thirty degrees outside!

"Sam, I'm gonna open the door, are you okay?"

Sam swallowed and coughed before answering.

"Need to lie down, too dizzy, making me sick." Sam said, swaying slightly in his seat.

Dean carefully laid Sam down onto his lap.

"Is that good?" Dean asked.

"Better." Sam whispered.

Dean then opened the door on the driver's side, letting a blast of cold air into the warm car.

Sam shivered and started to cough violently as soon as the chilly air swept across his warm face.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, noting that he had asked that a lot today.

"Too (cough, cough) cold." Sam answered.

Dean hastily shut the door and sat Sam up, while patting his back reassuringly until the fit had ended. Sam was shivering frantically and it wasn't helping his tender stomach.

Dean, being the awesome big brother that he is, wrapped his arms around Sam until he started to warm up.

"What about the air conditioner? Would that work?" Dean questioned.

"Might. Try." Sam responded breathlessly.

Dean cranked up the air conditioner to as cold as it could get and blasted the air at Sam. No coughing ensued, so that was a good sign.

"Dean, temperature." Sam reminded Dean.

Dean grabbed the thermometer and put it in Sam's ear, waiting for the annoying and meaningful beep.

Beep! Dean pulled the contraption out of Sam's ear and peered at the digital screen.

"104.8, could be worse. Is the air conditioning helping?" Dean asked.

"Don't know, still feel sick. Dean, can I try more Ginger Ale?" Sam requested, this being his first full sentence in a while.

"If you want to…" Dean replied hesitantly.

Sam gave the thumbs up sign, so Dean retrieved the Ginger Ale bottle from the floor and screwed the top off, once again omitting a hiss through the air.

He tipped the bottle into Sam's mouth, so that he would get a few sips of the sweet liquid. Sam swallowed…

"Is it staying down?" Dean inquired after a few seconds.

"No." Sam stated before gagging into the bucket again.

Fortunately, this only lasted for about a minute due to the intensity of the heaves. Dean rubbed Sam's back the whole time, and whispered words of encouragement, when inside he was breaking apart at the seams. Sam hadn't been this sick for a long time…

_Flashback… (December, 1992)_

"_D'n, I want Daddy." A nine year old Sam cried from his place over a cracked toilet before retching into the bowl again. Dean ran to his side and held him around the middle, willing his stomach to stop heaving._

_Sam had developed a fever about two days ago, and already it had led to this. Sam could barely move without coughing or getting sick, and their dad was away on a hunt somewhere out in Montana, and wouldn't be home until tomorrow._

"_I know buddy, he'll be here tomorrow, I promise." Dean whispered into Sam's ear. Sam slumped into Dean when he was done, exhaustion claiming his fevered body. _

"_My tummy hurts." Sam whined, as he coughed and laid his hand onto his abused stomach._

"_I know, Sammy." Dean said sadly. Sam then moved his head onto Dean's legs and curled into a loose ball, tears running down his red cheeks._

"_Its okay, Sammy, I'll take care of you. I'm here; I won't let anything happen to you little brother." Dean reassured._

"_Promise, Dean?" Sam asked._

"_I promise, forever and ever, I'll always take care of you." Dean pledged before starting to hum "Hey Jude", hoping that it would comfort Sam, like it always had for him. Sam closed his eyes and fell asleep within minutes, snuggling into his brother. He knew that as long as Dean was there, he would always be okay._

_End Flashback_

Once Sam was done, he laid his heavy head on Dean's lap, while gingerly placing his hand over his uneasy stomach and gave a few wet coughs.

"You gonna be alright?" Dean asked.

"Stomach hurts, don' feel good" Sam shivered.

"I know, Sammy. Do you think you could try and sleep?"

"Temps too high, Dangerous." Sam mumbled and then curled his knees up to his chest and moaned.

"Does your stomach hurt that bad?" Dean asked worriedly.

Sam looked at Dean, and Dean could see the answer in his brother's tearing eyes. Dean blinked away tears himself and put his hand on Sam's back, rubbing small, gentle circles, and did the only thing that he could think of… he started humming "Hey Jude."

Sam stopped shivering for a minute and looked up at Dean with questioning eyes.

"'member that." Sam whispered knowingly.  
"I'm surprised that you do, your fever was really high." Dean responded, before resuming his humming. Sam relaxed under him, as the humming lulled his aching head. He knew that he couldn't sleep, but even relaxing felt good for the moment.

**So, what did you think? Any suggestions? Let me know… I'll try to get the next chapter up sometime before Friday. Thanks for reading! -twiandsuperfan**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, here is the next chapter! I just wanted to say thank you to all of the people who have been reading this story! I am completely amazed at the huge response that this has received! Also, I really don't know what season this story is supposed to take place in, so just kind of imagine whatever you want. And as usual, please enjoy! -twiandsuperfan**

**Chapter 6**

After the humming had ended, Sam was welcomed back to the world with shivering and pain.

"Salmonella." Sam whispered, and then shifted his body, sending it shaking with so much force; Sam could have sworn that he felt his bones shuddering.

"What?" Dean questioned, slightly confused.

"Food poisoning." Sam answered, like it was a common fact.

"Food poisoning? Where would you get that?"

"Diner." Sam said and then moaned.

"Stomach kills." He added.

"You want to try some more Pepto?" Dean offered.

"Won' stay down (cough, cough)." Sam replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"Well, we need to try something." Dean said frustrated that he didn't know what that something was.

"D'n?" Sam whined.

"Yea, Sammy?"

"Really dizzy." Sam informed Dean.

"I know, how can I help?" Dean begged.

"Don' know… can't think, head hurts."

Dean then rubbed Sam's temples, using light circular motions.

"Does that help?" Dean asked.

"Little… D'n try Cas." Sam suggested.

Wow! Another kick in the head for Dean. The though hadn't even occurred to him, although he highly doubted that Castiel could do anything right now since his angelic powers were slowly seeping away. Although, it would be nice to have an extra hand.

"Okay, Sammy."

Sam curled tighter into himself and coughed a series of painful coughs that set his lungs ablaze and he had to struggle to receive the air that his body so desperately needed. The dizziness that Sam had experienced before amounted to about a puppy compared to the tiger of what he felt right now.

Dean thumped on his back and pushed his scraggly bangs out of his ashen face.

"You good?" Dean asked once Sam had finished.

"For now." Sam rasped back.

"Alright," Dean said before changing his attention to the sky, "Cas! We need you, please hurry!" Dean shouted.

Sam winced at the loud tone that made his head throb in agonizing waves.

"I'm here." Castiel informed from the backseat.

He looked down at Sam curiously, noting the redness on his cheeks, shivering, and wheezing breathes that shuddered out of Sam's pale body.

"Sam is not well." Castiel commented.

"That's why we called for you. Think you have some spare angel mojo to fix him up?" Dean questioned.

"Dean, I can barely teleport anymore. The best I can do is to see what's wrong." Castiel replied glumly.

"Alright, then do that." Dean instructed.

Castiel moved to the front seat so he was next to Sam. Sam seemed so very fragile at the moment and he didn't want to cause him anymore pain, however, Dean seemed desperate for anything…

"Sam, you may feel a small burning sensation, it shouldn't hurt too much." Castiel informed.

"Okay." Sam replied in a scratchy, weak voice.

Castiel frowned, once again remembering how fragile human life was. He placed his hands on Sam's arm, mystified at the unusually warm heat that it produced.

He scanned Jimmy's mind for the right word and eventually found the answer. Sam had a fever.

He then dug deeper into the complexity that was Sam's body. His lungs seemed to have something trapped in them, almost like a fluid, how that could happen Castiel wasn't sure. Then, he noticed something was attacking Sam's body, it seemed small and unimportant, but Castiel didn't know how much of a threat it actually was. He moved on to the stomach, where he could almost feel the pain that Sam was enduring. It was a strange sensation… He tried going deeper into Sam's stomach, but Sam moaned.

"D'n…" Sam's voice warned.

"Cas, get out!" Dean yelled while putting the bucket under Sam's head.

Castiel let go of Sam's body just in time, although he could still feel the strange turning that had happened in Sam's stomach.

Sam gagged and spit violently, until the Tylenol came back up with vengeance.

"Oh, God." Sam moaned before gagging again. Dean rubbed Sam's back gently, and whispered soothing words to Sammy.

Castiel remained dead still, not know knowing what to do. Something was wrong with Sam, but Castiel didn't know what. He sifted through Jimmy's mind and eventually came up with a memory of Jimmy's wife doing the same thing that Sam was doing… throwing up.

In Jimmy's mind, this meant that Sam was sick and needed medicine, rest, and fluids.

Sam finally stopped, but was still extremely queasy, and his stomach was cramping. He coughed a couple of times, only upsetting his stomach more. He leaned against Dean's shoulder and sighed lightly.

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's trembling form and stroked his hair.

"It's okay Sammy, you're gonna be okay." Dean assured him.

"Feel horrible." Sam whispered, while grabbing his stomach and coughing a few more times.

"I know, Sammy." Dean murmured before turning to Castiel, "What did you find out?"

"There's fluid in his lungs, something is attacking his body, and according to Jimmy's thoughts, Sam needs fluids and medicine." Castiel replied.

"Alright, thanks. We tried the medicine thing… but Cas, I don't know what to do." Dean said honestly.

"I'm sorry that I cannot be of any help." Castiel responded sadly.

Sam shifted and whimpered, clutching his stomach tighter, and squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

"What is it, Sam?" Dean questioned.

"Hurts." Sam whined.

Dean wrapped his arm tighter around Sam, offering him what little comfort that he could give. He then glanced at the clock that told him that Bobby would be here in twenty minutes.

"Hang on for a little longer, Sammy. Bobby will be here soon." Dean encouraged.

Sam just nodded, sending his surroundings spinning. He swallowed and if he didn't know better, Dean could read his mind.

Dean lowered Sam down onto his lap and laid the forgotten blanket on top of Sam once again. Castiel had disappeared, as usual, and now Dean could feel the overwhelming amount of loneliness and worry… about Sam, about Bobby, about the future, about everything.

"Bobby, please hurry!" Dean whispered desperately to know one.

**Any suggestions or ideas? Should I torture the boys some more before Bobby gets to them, or should it be somewhat smooth sailing? Be sure to let me know, and I'll try to update within the week. Thanks for reading! -twiandsuperfan**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, so this isn't a new chapter, but I just wanted to say that I will update this story, but I am going to be very busy this week, so it may take a while. I'm sorry for this, but please be patient, and I promise to have a fantastic chapter ready for when I do update. **

**Also, if you have any comments or suggestions, this would be a good time to let me know… and I also want to write a story where someone gives me a prompt and I write a story based on it… so if you're interested in that, let me know. Thanks for your understanding.**

**-twiandsuperfan**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, sorry for the late update, but here is chapter 7! I assure you that the wait was worth it, and thank you to everyone who has reviewed and/or read my story! Enjoy! -twiandsuperfan**

**Chapter 7**

Sam shifted, holding back sobs as his stomach continued to explode in waves of agonizing pain Dean held him close with teary eyes, hating to see his baby brother so miserable.

He could see it in Sam's glassy, fever glazed eyes, the unmistakable look pleading for his big brother's help, but the problem was that this time Dean couldn't do anything to help.

Sam gasped as a particularly sharp pain shot through his stomach.

"D'n," Sam groaned, letting a few stray tears etch their way down his flushed face.

"What do you need me to do?" Dean begged, wishing he could make Sam better with the press of a button, a valuable one at that.

Sam contemplated this for a while through a fever and pain induced haze. He knew that his turning stomach couldn't handle much, but he also knew that if he stayed the way he was, he would most likely pass out from the pain. Then, a thought suddenly occurred to him… mint and ginger may work in small amounts. He remembered his dad once telling Sam and Dean about this mixture while they were hunting a werewolf, and Dean came down with the flu.

_**Flashback… (May, 1994)**_

"_Sam, will you get more water from that river?" John asked, while leaning over a groaning, and very pale looking Dean._

"_Yea, I'll be right back." Sam responded, rushing to the river._

"_Dad?" Dean whispered hoarsely._

_John had known that something was off with his son before they had left for this hunt, but he just shook it off, thinking that it was simply a cold or tiredness… but after hiking for nearly five hours, Dean had slumped to his knees, retching violently before passing out. He had a high fever, of that John was sure, and just how high was the question._

"_I'm here Dean." John replied, while pushing Dean's sweat drenched hair out of his face._

"_Don' feel good," Dean mumbled before turning sheet white._

"_Shit." John swore lightly, before propping Dean up and grabbing a grocery bag, putting it under Dean._

_Dean retched, dizziness and coldness running through him._

"_It's okay, Dean, let it out." John soothed, wincing as Dean continued to heave._

"_Is Dean okay?" Sam asked worriedly._

"_M' fine." Dean moaned in-between heaves._

"_Clearly." Sam stated, while bringing the water over near Dean._

_Dean finally stopped, but his stomach was in agony, and he curled into a tight ball, rocking with the pain. _

"_Dean, what hurts?" John questioned._

"_Stomach." Dean ground out through clenched teeth._

"_Sam, try to find some mint… I think I have ginger somewhere in my bag."_

"_Why?" Sam questioned._

"_It helps ease stomach pain." John replied._

_**End Flashback**_

"D'n, ginger and mint." Sam whispered, before coughing harshly, moaning when it jarred his stomach. He felt lightheaded and extremely nauseous, swallowing back the bile that was creeping its way up his throat.

Dean noticed the increased pallor of Sam's skin, only intensifying dark circles under his eyes, and overly flushed cheeks.

"Sam?" Dean questioned, guessing what was about to happen. He scooted the bucket closer to Sam.

"Thanks." Sam breathed, before gagging violently into the bucket. Only strings of saliva fell into it.

Sam coughed, bringing up stomach bile that burned his already raw throat. He whimpered at how horrid he felt and was glad to feel Dean's gentle hand on his back.

"Breathe, Sam, nice and slow." Dean instructed.

Sam took a small breath, only to be rewarded with a deep cough, sending him into painful dry heaves, which drained his remaining energy. He then slumped against Dean, panting miserably.

Dean wrapped his arms protectively around Sam and moved his head gently so it was resting against his shoulder. Sam's arms were around his abused middle and he trembled, his teeth chattering audibly.

Dean slowly moved his hand up to Sam's forehead, sensing the increased heat immediately.

"Time for a temperature check."

Dean grabbed the thermometer from beside him and placed it in Sam's ear, worried when his brother didn't even seem to notice.

Beep!

"105.1, damn!" Dean whispered, the feeling of defeat overwhelming him. "Any ideas, Sam?"

"Mint and ginger." Sam repeated.

"Just anything with mint and ginger?" Dean asked.

"Gum, water, mints, anything." Sam squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the intense throbbing in his head.

"Will you be okay for a while?" Dean questioned hesitantly.

"_Fever above 105 causes seizures__…" _Sam's voice echoed in his head.

Sam nodded, regretting the movement instantly. He tensed, willing the dizziness to go away.

"You sure?" Dean asked again, noticing the sheet white paleness on Sam's face.

This time Sam gave the "OK" sign.

Dean laid Sam down onto the seat, placing a sweatshirt under his head.

"The bucket's right in front of you if you need it, and here's your cell." Dean informed while moving both item's within easy reach.

Sam gave a shaky thumbs up, before Dean stepped out into the cold, try to slide through as little space as possible, as to not aggravate Sam's cough. Making sure one last time that Sam was alright, he locked the doors and headed into the gas station.

He hadn't noticed, but two rough looking guys must have pulled in, their motorcycles shining in the light.

Dean went to the beverage cooler, looking for something minty… berry, lemonade, raspberry… mint! He grabbed the bottle of mint flavored water, and quickly scanned the label, it read _"Metromint, 100% Pure water,-"_

"What're you doing?" Asked the imitation hippy in a shaking voice.

Dean turned around to find one of the motorcycle guys holding a gun towards the scared, wide-eyed cashier.

"Give us the money and there won't be a problem!" The man shouted.

The cashier put his hands up and slowly crouched down behind the counter, pretending to get a key.

Bang!

A shot rang out, sending the man with the gun to the ground, hissing and kicking, while holding his bloody arm.

The other man quickly retrieved the gun and shot it at the hippy, before he could react. The hippy sank to the floor, dead.

Dean reached for his gun, swearing mentally when he realized that it was still in the car.

"You're next." The man with the gun said, aiming the gun at Dean.

Bam!

**So, what do you think? I'm excepting prompts to write other stories, as well as suggestions for this one! So, don't forget to let me know what you want to see happen next! Thanks again for reading. (Btw, Happy Birthday Taylor Lautner!) -twiandsuperfan**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the long wait, but life has been extremely busy lately… I swear that teacher's always give more homework when I have a gymnastics competition (In Watertown, WI on Sunday!) coming up! Anyway, I have to make this quick, so enjoy the chapter and thank you for reading! -twiandsuperfan**

**Chapter 8**

Dean hit the floor as fast as he could, dodging the bullet, and silently thanking the years of training. The glass of the cooler behind him shattered, sending sharp shards of glass flying on top of him. Dean yelped as one imbedded itself deep within his upper arm, instantly feeling the tacky flow of blood seeping into his shirt.

Another shot rang out, the bullet sailing past Dean, and hitting numerous pop bottles, which exploded upon impact. Pop sprayed across Dean, creating a sticky film to coat him.

"Crap." Dean muttered, feeling completely helpless without his gun.

"Have enough?" Asked the man with the gun.

"I don't know, I kind of like the free drink." Dean replied sarcastically.

"Really? How'd you like some more?" The man responded wickedly before firing the gun once again.

Dean gasped as the bullet penetrated his side, before coming to stop somewhere within his abdomen. He cried out in pain, and desperately tried to stem the heavy flow of blood running onto the floor. He could see black around the edges of his vision, as it slowly consumed him…

Back in the car, Sam laid hunched over the bucket in anticipation, as his stomach rolled. He really wished that Dean were here right now to comfort him in some way, but knew that they had to try something, or else his future would not be so bright.

Sam groaned has his stomach clenched painfully, sending his stomach into useless spasms. He coughed as he tried to quench his nausea, only to bring on more useless heaves. He considered calling Dean, but figured that he couldn't say much anyway, so he just waited it out.

Somewhere in-between heaves, he thought that he heard a gunshot. After waiting for a few seconds, he chalked it all up to his high fever, and tried to subdue the fire that was burning in his stomach.

Bang!

Now that he most definitely heard! He shot up in his seat, swaying when the world tilted around him, and reached for the glove box, terrified when he found Dean's gun still laying in it.

"Oh, no!" Sam whispered horrified.

Just then another shot rang out, followed with the unmistakable scream of Dean.

"Dean!" Sam yelled out hopelessly. He had to do something!

Sam grabbed the forgotten gun from the glove box, before opening the car door. He coughed harshly as the cold air collided with his sensitive lungs. He folded in two, grabbing at his chest as it burst out in pain.

"Definitely a broken rib." Sam thought to himself as the fit ended.

He was beyond dizzy and standing was not helping his pounding head at all, but he knew that Dean was in trouble! He quickly straightened himself up, grabbing onto the car as his knees buckled.

Just then, he heard the roar of an engine, coming around the corner. Grasping the gun in his hand he turned around to the new threat.

"Bad idea." Sam thought before collapsing onto the ground and beginning to gag. The motion made his broken rib throb, and he could see black dots dancing around in his line of blurring vision.

"Sam!" A voice yelled out.

"Was that Bobby?" Sam questioned himself. He felt a gruff hand on his back, rubbing small circles soothingly. "It's Bobby." Sam concluded.

"Sam, breathe with me." Bobby demanded as he pulled Sam into his lap.

"D'n, inside, gunshot, help." Sam muttered while trying to catch his breath.

"What's that, Sam?" Bobby questioned.

"D'n, hurt, inside, go!" Sam commanded, pushing weakly against Bobby.

Bobby, finally understanding what Sam meant, quickly stood up, grabbing the gun out of Sam's limp hand.

"I'll be back." Bobby told Sam. Sam gave a thumbs up before falling against the trusted Impala, knowing that Bobby could take care of Dean.

Bobby entered the store with his gun raised, instantly seeing Dean curled on the floor, groaning in pain.

"Bobby! Watch out!" Dean yelled out in a pain filled cry.

Bobby quickly darted his eyes to the man aiming a gun at him. Bobby wasted no time in aiming and firing at the man, who instantly dropped dead on the floor.

After making sure that all threats were gone, Bobby sprinted over to where Dean lay on the floor. A large puddle of blood was forming around him, and Bobby could see the large piece of glass sticking out from Dean's arm.

"What happened?" Bobby asked.

"Burglary I guess, forgot my gun." Dean smirked before grimacing.

"Idjit," Bobby muttered before seeing the increased pallor of Dean's skin. "Did you get shot anywhere?" Bobby questioned.

"My side. Dumbass has a good aim." Dean answered.

Bobby quickly noted the mass amount of blood gushing from Dean's side.

"Mind if I take a look?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head, signaling for Bobby to proceed.

Bobby lifter up Dean's shirt, but all he could see was blood.

"Dean, I'm gonna have to clean this up a bit."

"Okay." Dean responded.

Bobby grabbed a roll of paper towel and a bottle of alcohol from the aisles, bringing them back to Dean's side.

"Hang in there kid." Bobby said when he saw Dean starting to fade.

"Sam alright?" Dean questioned. Leave it to Dean to be worrying about his brother as he is slowly bleeding out.

"He was trying to get out of the car when I pulled in, guess he heard me and turned around a bit too quick. He was hurling when I got to him."

"Go check on him." Dean requested.

"Let's get you fixed up first."

Bobby took the paper towel and doused it in alcohol, before placing it on Dean's wound. Dean hissed in pain, and instantly arched off the ground.

"Breathe, Dean, come on, just like your Daddy taught you." Bobby instructed before pouring more alcohol over the wound. This time Dean screamed in pain before catching himself, and resolving to pant.

Bobby put a soothing hand on Dean's forehead, frowning when he found it slightly warm.

Just then Sam staggered through the door, leaning heavily against the frame, looking ghostly pale.

"Sam!" Both Bobby and Dean yelled as Sam's eyes rolled back in his head, sending him sprawling to the floor. Dean's heart nearly stopped when he saw Sam convulsing.

**I have had numerous requests for Sam to have a seizure… so you finally got one! Haha, I feel so evil. Do you think Sam will be alright? How about Dean? If you have any suggestions for this story, or an idea for future stories, please let me know! Thanks again for reading!**

**-Twiandsuperfan**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi! So here is Chapter 9 (Well, technically 10, but I'm not going to count chapter 7 as a chapter)! Thank you to everyone who had read and/or reviewed! It really means a lot to me knowing that I have fans! So enjoy the chapter! -twiandsuperfan**

**Chapter 9**

Dean instantly stood up, shakily holding onto the metal aisles with a death grip, while trying to get over to his brother.

"Boy, sit down now! I don't need both Winchesters' on the ground!" Bobby demanded as he ran to Sam convulsing body.

Dean obeyed and sat down on the dirty linoleum floor, his eyes glued to Sam.

Bobby was desperately trying to assess Sam's condition, first turning him onto his side, and then crossing his legs, so he wouldn't hurt himself. Sam was a complete mess, his body was shaking, and his breathing was fast… way too fast. Bobby quickly checked Sam's pulse and found it to be racing. _Why does this kind of thing always happen to Winchesters'? _Bobby questioned himself.

"What is his temp at?" Bobby asked to deaf ears.

Dean was overwhelmed with the situation, his hurt body not being able to take it in. His baby brother, the whole meaning of his world, was laying on the floor only a matter of feet away, possibly dying, and Dean was completely powerless to help. _Why can't we have a break? Just one friggin' time? This isn't fair! _Dean's mind shouted.

"Dean!" Bobby yelled, hoping to get Dean out of his daze. He sighed in relief when Dean's slightly glassy eyes turned towards him.

"Wha-" Dean started.

"What is Sam's temperature?" Bobby questioned again.

Dean fought with his foggy mind, trying to remember… "Ah, 105.1 last time I checked"

"When was that?" Bobby questioned further, beginning to worry when it took Dean was longer than it should have to answer.

"About fifteen minutes." Dean responded, closing his eyes for a second as a wave of dizziness overcame him. _This is so not good. _He thought.

"Dean, you with me?" Bobby asked, concerned that Dean was beginning to show signs of mass blood loss.

"Yea." Dean replied, once again opening his eyes, swaying a little as he did.

"Dean." Bobby warned.

"M'fine, help Sammy."

Bobby sighed in frustration before turning his attention back to Sam. The seizure had stopped, but Bobby wasn't sure of what kind of damage was left in its wake. Bobby checked Sam's heartbeat and still found it to be way too fast, although that could be an effect of the fever raging through Sam. Sam's breathing sounded congested, and Bobby could feel the rumble inside Sam's lungs, probably indicating pneumonia.

"Dean, do you see a thermometer in any of these aisles?" Bobby questioned.

Dean looked down the three aisles that were in his line of vision, luckily finding one only a few feet away.

"Yea, I got it." Dean replied while reaching for the thermometer. The movement tugged at his side and he yelped in pain. _Do it for Sammy, come on, and help Sammy. _Dean encouraged himself. After what seemed like years, Dean grasped his hand around the thermometer and flung it at Bobby, before lying on the floor, panting to get a hold of his pain.

"Thanks," Bobby said before noticing Dean's struggling breathes' and shaking form. "You gonna be alright, kid?"

"Me? Yea, I'm fine. Help Sammy." Dean ordered, curling into his side as pain streaked throughout his body.

Bobby, knowing that Dean would not admit how he felt until Sam was taken care of, took the metal stick out of its packaging and placed it in Sam's ear, desperately waiting for it to beep.

Beep!

"Ah, hell!" Bobby swore when the little numbers read 105.5.

"What's it at?" Dean slurred, lifting his head to look at Bobby.

"105.5" Bobby answered, pulling his cap off and running his hand nervously through his receding hair.

"Damn!" Dean agreed, before putting his cheek against the cool floor again. "Hey, where's your doctor friend?" Dean added as an afterthought.

"On vacation in Tahiti." Bobby said with anger in his voice. He had no idea what to do. Sam was practically burning from the inside out, and Dean was bleeding to death, both clearly needed medical attention, but of course, there were no hospitals for nearly three hours. _Winchester luck strikes again. _

Dean suddenly gasped as a particularly sharp pain shot across his side. His vision was beginning to fade around the edges, and he could feel his head pounding.

Bobby, noticing Dean downward plummet, quickly ran over to him. That's when he noticed the red flush of Dean's cheeks, and the massive pool of blood surrounding him.

"Dean, I gotta finish cleaning these wounds, the bullet is going to have to stay in until we get back to my place, but I think I can get that hunk of glass out of your shoulder… that sound good?" Bobby inquired.

"Peachy." Dean groaned, now fighting to keep his stomach in place.

Bobby noticed the increased pallor of Dean's face and from years of knowing Dean, knew that Dean was trying not to throw up.

"Let it out if you have to, otherwise I'm going to start to dig out that piece of glass."

"Go ahead." Dean said, still battling with his turning stomach.

"Fine, but I don't want ya hurling on me." Bobby replied humorously.

Dean shivered at the same time that his stomach turned inside out. He moaned grabbing his stomach, before trying to race to the gas stations bathroom. His side burned in pain, but Dean kept moving to his destination until he kneeled in front of the unclean toilet and emptied his stomach.

Bobby stayed outside the door, knowing that Dean would want some privacy, but needing to be nearby. He winced when he heard Dean's painful cries in-between retches. When they seized to stop, he finally decided that privacy be damned, he was going to help.

He opened the door, and found Dean with his arm wrapped around his stomach, head hanging low, as his back arched as his body heaved. Bobby scurried over to Dean, kneeling next to him, quickly noting the tears streaming down Dean's face.

"It's alright, kiddo. It'll be over soon." Bobby soothed while putting a supporting hand on Dean's tense shoulder, surprised at the heat radiating off of it. Frowning he placed his hand on the back of Dean's neck, once again noticing the unnatural heat. _Crap! The wound is probably getting infected. _Bobby thought to himself.

Dean finally stopped with one last whimper, but didn't move from his position.

"You okay now?" Bobby questioned.

"Check on Sam." Dean demanded hoarsely.

"I asked you a question." Bobby ground out.

"And I gave you an order." Dean replied.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere until you answer my question, are you okay?" Bobby tried again. _Damn stubborn Winchesters. _

"I'm good, now go help Sam." Dean instructed, moving his head from the toilet seat and glaring at Bobby through glassy eyes.

"Like hell you are, think you can walk?" Bobby answered.

Dean nodded. Bobby wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and pulled him up slowly, trying not to tug on his injuries, and then headed out of the bathroom, making Bobby chuckle when it read Women.

Dean was grinding his teeth, trying to keep his pain from being noticed, as Bobby pulled him forward. Dean kept his eyes looking ahead, anxious to see his brother. However, when his eyes laid upon his brother, his knees buckled at the sight…

**Sorry, but I just had to leave you with a cliffy! Haha, I am truly evil! So, what did you think? Let me know, and I will try to post another chapter within a week. Thanks again for reading! **

**Important! I just started a new story called "Slapdash", and would love for you to check it out and leave your own prompts and ideas! Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon! ****-twiandsuperfan**


	11. Chapter 11

**First of all, I really have to apologize for the long wait! The major issue was that the site was literally having a spaz attack, and the second was because I was on vacation with no wifi. So I'M SOOOOOOO SORRY! Please forgive me. Other than that, here is chapter 10! I just want to say thank you to everyone who is reading and/or reviewing this story! I have never had such a great response and hope that it will continue. So without further a due… Chapter 10!**

**-twinandsuperfan**

**Chapter 10**

**Previously on A Big Brother's Love…**

_Dean was grinding his teeth, trying to keep his pain from being noticed, as Bobby pulled him forward. Dean kept his eyes looking ahead, anxious to see his brother. However, when his eyes laid upon his brother, his knees buckled at the sight… _

"Sam!" Both Bobby and Dean yelled in unison as their eyes laid upon Sam's deathly pale figure.

Sam was on his hands and knees, sharp wheezes could be heard from across the room as he struggled for air. His lips were turning blue and his face was bright red. His arms were shaking as they tried to support his severely weakened body.

"D'n, help!" Sam begged as he coughed deeply, only causing him to wheeze more. He was on the verge of passing out, and needed someone to do something, anything.

Dean tried to run forward, but his side pierced with pain, and he collapsed on his shoulder… pushing the glass in farther. He cried out in pain as he felt it meet bone.

Bobby began running to Dean, but stopped dead in his tracks as he heard Sam choking and wheezing. He looked at both boys, trying to decide who to go to first.

"Bobby! Help Sam!" Dean insisted upon seeing Bobby's indecision.

After nodding at Dean, Bobby rushed over to Sam and dropped next to him. Up close the noises emitting from Sam were even louder… and Sam's face was beginning to take on a bluish tint.

"Sam, can you hear me?" Bobby questioned, while putting a hand onto Sam's forehead, flinching when it nearly scorched his hand.

"Bob- (choked cough, wheeze)- by?"

"I'm here, Sam." Bobby whispered, thinking of how to help Sam.

He first decided to start with pulling him into a sitting position, with his head tilted back. He next took his hand and lightly pounded on Sam's back, hoping to loosen up the mucus that was clogging his throat.

When the harsh wheezing didn't cease, he resorted to now tilting Sam's head down, and rubbing on his throat to start his gag reflexes. Sam coughed hard, and made a choking noise before going back onto his hands and knees and gagging intensely, until a dark wad of mucus fell on the floor.

By this time Dean had literally crawled to his brother, taking a seat next to him, he patted his back as Sam continued to choke and gag.

"Keep going, Sammy. You can do it." He encouraged, disappointed when his voice cracked in pain.

Finally, the choking ended, and while Sam was still wheezing, it was much better than before. Sam fell into Dean's arms, nearly knocking him over.

"D'n? I think-" He broke off coughing into his hand, wincing when his rib was moved "I think I need a doctor." He finished his voice barely above a whisper.

"I think that would be an understatement. We have a slight problem though, there aren't any… how's your breathing now?" Dean asked, noticing that the bluish tint on Sam's face was slowly fading.

"Better, think I broke a rib." Sam commented.

"Where?" Bobby questioned, moving in closer to the brothers.

Sam pointed to the rib that was now throbbing in rhythm with his heart.

Bobby lifted up Sam's shirt, and gently placed his hand where Sam had instructed. He instantly felt the bone move, at the same time that Sam tensed. Dean grabbed Sam's hand, until he got his pain under control again.

"Yea, it's broken. I can try to tape it up real quick if you want." Bobby offered.

Sam looked at Dean and then slowly shook his head, his whole body swaying with the motion as dizziness overwhelmed him. He leaned his head against Dean's chest and moaned softly. Dean tensed when movement twisted his side, but he quickly covered it up.

"Still dizzy?" Dean guessed. Sam didn't have to respond for Dean to know. Dean wrapped his good arm protectively around his baby brother and held him close. After a few seconds of this, Sam finally turned his head towards Bobby.

"Help Dean first." Sam insisted. While Dean may have tried to cover up his pain, Sam could see right through his bravado façade, and could clearly see the dark pool forming around Dean once again.

"I'm fine, Sammy. You're the one with the high fever."

Sam frowned, but didn't have the strength to reply. Instead he simply looked at Bobby with his puppy dog eyes that always won his "uncle" over. Within his eyes he pleaded _Please help Dean. _And like magic, Bobby nodded at Sam before coming over to Dean.

Sam scooted away from Dean slowly, leaving Dean with a very confused expression… until he saw Bobby.

"Uh-ah, Sam first! At least try to get some medicine in him, please Bobby?" Dean begged, once again noticing Sam's shivering form and glassy eyes.

"Fine, where is it?" Bobby questioned.

"In the car, front seat." Dean replied. Bobby quickly got up and rushed out of the gas station.

"You know it won't stay down." Sam murmured, holding a hand over his delicate stomach and hiccupping.

"Well, it's worth a try." Dean sighed, as he leaned against the metal aisle, closing his eyes briefly against the harsh lighting that was tormenting his head. He knew that he probably needed more blood, or at least many days rest, zonked out on a bed… but he didn't have that privilege right now, because as he opened his eyes, he saw Sam lean forward and gag, spitting out deep brown mucus and stomach bile. Dean worked his way over to his brother and put his hand on his back for support, while at the same time trying to hold him up. Sam shuddered as he spit the last bit of mucus onto the ground.

Dean pulled him back and rubbed his back, humming nonsense tunes and also running his hand through Sam's long hair. Sam coughed wetly and pulled a shaking hand to his chest where his rib and lungs burned.

At that point, Bobby came back in with the medicine that Dean had bought earlier. He dropped the boxes and bottles by Dean before sprinting over to the drink aisle and grabbing a bottle of water.

"D'n, I can't do it. Stomach's still not good." Sam whispered into Dean's ear.

"Can you at least try?"

Sam swallowed and moved his hand over his stomach.

"Maybe." He finally said.

"Alright boys, let's get some drugs in you." Bobby said as he sat down on the floor by the two brothers'.

"Sam, what do you want first… we've got some pain meds, Pepto, and some cold stuff?"

"Pepto." Sam breathed.

Bobby nodded, noticing the mess on the floor near Sam.

"Do you think you can hold down a full dosage?" Bobby questioned.

Sam groaned at the thought.

"I'll take that as a no." Bobby chuckled as a poured a small amount of the pink fluid into the little cup. Sam gulped and leaned against Dean, once again moving his wounded shoulder and side. Dean tensed and held back a moan. Sam turned around and saw the pain lines around Dean's mouth, and the pain that showed through his eyes. Silently kicking himself for not thinking of that, he grabbed Dean's hand and held it… something they hadn't done in years.

The gaze that the brother's shared could only be achieved through true love, and years upon years of experience in every field. Whether it be sadness, joy, or sickness… they both knew that they would always have each other to make it better. So, within the few seconds that Bobby had poured the Pepto into a cup…. Sam and Dean had shared a lifelong string of memories that were still being made. Because, while feelings may only last a few minutes… memories remain forever, with one final glance, Sam took the cup and gulped a mouthful down.

**Good? Cheesy? Lame? Let me know, and thank you so much for reading! I'll try to update as soon as I can! And also, just press that little button and send me a message! After all, reviews are inspiration to write faster! -twiandsuperfan**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi, everyone. Please don't kill me for making you wait so long! I do have excuses, one of which being a severely sprained ankle, so please put away the torches and pitch forks! As a peace offering, I wrote a very long chapter (compared to my normal standards). Anyway, thank you for reading and also to everyone who has reviewed and/or put me or this story on alert. It really means a lot! Anyway, enjoy this chapter… considering you had to wait a month, I hope it impresses you. Also, I wrote this while listening to "When Love & Hate Collide", "Miss You In A Heartbeat", "Bringin' On The Heartbreak" and "Rock of Ages". I honestly do not know why I just mention that. Hmmm… -twiandsuperfan**

**Chapter 11**

**Then…**

_The gaze that the brother's shared could only be achieved through true love, and years upon years of experience in every field. Whether it be sadness, joy, or sickness… they both knew that they would always have each other to make it better. So, within the few seconds that Bobby had poured the Pepto into a cup…. Sam and Dean had shared a lifelong string of memories that were still being made. Because, while feelings may only last a few minutes… memories remain forever, with one final glance, Sam took the cup and gulped a mouthful down._

**Now…**

The results were almost immediate. Within seconds of swallowing the pink liquid, Sam was scrunched into a tight ball. Withering in pain, as lightening shot through his stomach. This was like no other pain be had ever experienced. He had had gunshot wounds, broken bones, concussions, the whole package… but none of these could even to compare to the pain he felt racing through his body now. It was as though someone had decided to ignite a bomb within him, and then, as if that weren't enough, continuously stab him in the stomach. All he could feel was the pain, as that jagged knife stabbed him over and over.

As his fever and pain induced train of thought hit a road block, he realized his older brother, crouched next to him. He sees him lips moving, but cannot make out the sound that should be escaping from them. He can only feel the pain boiling inside of him and the fever cooking him from the inside out. He moans, hoping that Dean will understand his inability to answer the unheard words that pricked at his skin.

Dean does indeed notice that Sam's body is finally giving into the fever and obvious pain that it has endured for so long. He wants to get closer to Sam, comfort him like a big brother should. Protect him, even if the only danger cannot be stopped by his own hands. But his own body is beginning to fail. The blood, still flowing steadily from his side, where the bullet had penetrated his skin, and the chunk of glass, still sticking from its resting place, deep within his upper arm; and Dean knows when his body begins to fight a nasty infection (he's had enough experience to know), and he feels it now.

The sweat collecting on his brow, the nauseating feeling, churning his stomach, the lights blaring into his eyes and pounding his skull, and he knows he's in deep trouble. He's stuck in the depths of quicksand, that is quickly pulling him down, but he also knows that his little brother, laying only a mere foot away, is hurting, and shivering from fever… and he knows that he has to help. He has to grab hold of a vine and hold himself up long enough to help. So, he grabs hold of that vine and hold on as tight as he can.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean asked shakily. It scared him how weak him own voice sounded, but fear is quickly replaced with relief when Sam's fever glazed eyes, finally reach his brother's.

"D'n, m-my s-stomach," Sam broke off, suddenly coughing wetly into his fist, pain evident on his face, before continuing. "S-something's w-wrong." He finishes.

"What, Sam? What is it?" Dean questioned, gazing deep into his brother's tormented eyes.

"H-help D'n, please, m-make it s-stop," Sam begged as tears flowed heavily from his eyes.

"Sammy, you have to tell me what's wrong!" Dean replied urgently, as adrenaline took over his body. Sam curled further in on himself and paled, turning his color to a ghostly white. He cried out and desperately reached out his arms, searching for Dean, searching for his big brother's support.

Dean grabbed Sam's hand and was surprised by how hard Sam squeezed on Dean's hand. It scared Dean more than a little and he knew that in that moment, his calm façade that he had been holding up, slipped, revealing the worried brother underneath.

Looking into Sam's eyes, he found tortured eyes gazing back, eyes begging for the pain to stop, begging for it to all go away. Dean had to run his hand along his eyes to prevent the tears from falling, because he hadn't seen such begging eyes, filled with so much pain, since he was deep down in the pits of Hell. And seeing those eyes on his baby brother, his whole meaning to live, crushed him like a building falling from that sky.

"B-bobby? What do you s-suggest?" Dean turned to the old hunter who he'd known his entire life. Who basically called Sam and Dean his own, and knew that this was killing him as well.

"I don't know. Maybe a heat pad or something, but we don't want it to increase his fever either… he can't take pills… I just don't know anymore." Bobby admitted, defeat held thick in his words and face.

"Sammy? You still with us?" Dean brushed his fingers through Sam's long, scraggly hair, trying to reassure and calm his brother.

"Y-y-yea. D'n please, m-my stomach, f-feels l-like na-ils." Sam sobbed without tears, since his body his became dehydrated so long ago… or was that only a few hours ago?

"Ah, crap." Bobby sighed, crouching down next to Dean, and running a hand over his face.

"What?" Dean asked, noticing the worry covering Bobby's face.

"It may be nothing, but Sam, can you try to straighten out? I think I know what's wrong."

Sam obeyed and slowly uncurled himself, gasping, coughing, and moaning the whole time. The hand attached to Dean's was squeezing harder and harder, crushing it through the ripples of excruciating pain sizzling through his sick body. His skin was as white as clouds on a warm, sunny day, but dark circles outline his glassy eyes, and the signs of dehydration played on his sunken features. His lips were tinted blue, as a sign of the oxygen that was no longer fully filling his lungs.

"Good, now I'm going to feel around your abdomen. Tell me if it hurts. And, sorry, my hands are cold… considering I don't have a fever like you two idjits." Bobby chuckled without humor and moved so his hands were on Sam's abdomen.

"Hey, I don't have a fever." Dean insisted, knowing instantly that he was wrong, as the room tilted around him.

"I don't have to stick a thermometer up your ear to know you do. And by the way you're shivering and swaying over there, I'd say it's getting high fast." Then Bobby turned his attention back to Sam. "Just tell me if it hurts."

Sam nodded slowly, and then Bobby began his probing. Stopping when Sam screamed, as Bobby's hand pressed on his stomach.

"D-d-dean!" Sam screamed before curling back into a shivering ball of pain. Dean quickly mover over to his brother's side, wincing himself as his own pain, once again became prominent and his wounds began to bleed faster.

"I'm here, Sammy, I'm here, h-hang on." Dean cooed, desperately trying to help Sam.

"Don' f-feel g-good. G-gonna be s-s-sick." Sam warned, swallowing hard against the liquid burning up his throat.

Dean helped Sam sit up, gasping as the glass and bullet shift, and is more than grateful when Bobby helps Sam the rest of the way, before reaching out a supporting hand to steady Dean as he swayed. Doing a double take as he feels cool, clammy skin, instead of the expected fever warm skin, but before his can think about it too much, Sam leans forward and throws up violently.

Dean nearly passed out when he sees the red liquid pouring from his brother's mouth. Sam moaned loudly, grabbing his convulsing stomach and reaching out for Dean. Dean grabbed the hand and is once again surprised by the strength of the squeeze.

In-between rounds of sickness, Sam manages to whisper four words, "I… l-love… y-y-you… D'n." Before stopping and falling against Dean. His body shaking as another seizure unfolds. Consuming Sam in welcomed, pain-free darkness.

"Sam! No, don't do this to me! Please, Sammy!" Dean begged when Sam went completely slack in his arms, blood still coated his blue lips, creating a purple hue.

Dean hugged Sam in his arms, sighing in relief when he felt Sam's breath warm on his neck. His Sam though was unconscious, once again. His fever way too high, his body severely dehydrated, and throwing up blood. His brother, who may die.

This thought makes Dean collapse. Suddenly, his arms no longer can support him. His breathing became more rapid; dizziness overwhelmed him as the room tilts and spins, making him nauseous. He knows then, that he's lost too much blood, and his body is finally giving in.

Bobby rushed over and gently pulled Sam off Dean, gasping at how warm the youngest Winchester was. He laid Sam beside Dean, and quickly notices all the signs of blood loss.

"Dean. You need to stay with me here. Try to slow your breathing down." Bobby instructs, while grabbing a dish towel from the metal aisle near them.

"C-c-can't." Dean struggled to say. He could hear his heart thumping way too fast, pounding in rhythm with his head.

"I need to slow this bleeding. Just hand in there, okay?"

"Bo-bby, d-don't f-feel t-t-too g-good." Dean whispered, struggling to calm the waves that twisted and turned his stomach.

Dean paled, before taking on a sickly green tint and rolled over, expelling absolutely nothing but useless stomach bile. It burned his throat and the intense heaves pulled at his wounded side, fastening the flow of blood as Bobby tried to hold Dean up and stem the flowing blood.

Once Dean finished, he collapsed beside his brother, gasping for air, but instead getting small, quick pants. He could feel Bobby's hand over his side, and could see him forming words with his mouth, but like his brother, he couldn't hear him, as blackness danced across his vision.

As a final burst of his depleting energy, he takes Sam's warm, limp hand, and gives it a shaky squeeze. Hoping that maybe wherever Sam's mind may be amidst the horrors of fever induced nightmares, that he would be comforted by the fact that his big brother was there. And Dean knows that soon enough, he will be fighting with his brother in those nightmares, side by side, like they always are.

"T-take… c-care of… S-Samm-y… c-call C-cas… get t-to… h-h-ho-spital," Dean shuddered out as a final request.

He then turns back to his brother, the one who he would hold when Sammy fell and scraped his knee, the one would Dean would sing to sleep as Sammy stared at him with big eyes, swaddled in a baby blanket, the once who Dean had carried from the fire that had changed their lives, and the one who he swore to protect with his life… his Sammy, who he would go to Hell for.

"I love you too, Sammy. Don't ever forget that." Dean breathed to Sammy, before squeezing his hand and letting go of that vine holding him up. Dean and Sam's hands hit the ground together, making a thud as darkness overtakes Dean. Once stray tear leaked from his eyes and fell onto the brother's intertwined hands. One last "I love you", silently spread to the other, for even in unconsciousness, they were still caring for each other.

Bobby felt his heart shatter at the scene that had just unfolded in front of him. His hand pressed firmer onto Dean's wound, but he knew that it was no good. The towel had already been soaked in red and looking around, all that he could see was the Winchester's blood.

Obeying Dean's final request, he looked up at the yellowed ceiling tiles… up towards the sky, and screamed at the top of his lungs, with a few stray tears running down his haggard face, "Castiel! Get your angelic ass here! The boys need you, I need you!"

Behind him, the flutter of wings welcomed the arrival of Castiel.

**Did it meet your standards? Let me know, and also if you have any requests regarding later chapters, let me know as well. Also, don't forget to check out my new story ****Slapdash****! And I think it's a scientific fact that reviews will help a person get better… so reviews are definitely welcomed! Haha, I hope you enjoyed and until next time… -twiandsuperfan**


	13. Chapter 13

_Hey everyone... as usual I first apologize for the long wait since the last update. I had exams and then my brain died of all creativity, but now I'm back. Going to Disney tomorrow and in a good mood, so this chapter was finally "born". Yay! So, please enjoy and I'm sorry for all of the spelling errors that will be in this chapter... my Dad's laptop doesn't have Word, so I had to use Google Docs. Sigh. Anyway, I'll quick babbling so you can read. -twiandsuperfan_

**Chapter 12**

Pain: the only feeling that Sam had. Pain boiling in his lungs, pain rocketing through his skull, pain pulsating through his stomach, the pain was everywhere he searched, and he could not escape it. The most utterly confusing part was that he didn't know how the pain had come to be. Flashes of memories from the previous hours-or was it days- whirled in his head, images of Dean bloody on the floor, of Bobby trying to help, of himself blacking out after expelling blood from his mouth. The images were not welcomed in his mind, and he tried to push them back, deny that it had ever happened, telling himself that it was just a dream… but deep down he know that it was true, and he knew that he had to escape the darkness that was consuming him, fight back, so he could help his brother, but his body had other ideas as his thoughts stopped in their tracks and as his mind became that of a midnight sky… dark.

"Dean." The single word echoed in Dean's muddled mind, the word having no meaning yet, as it continued to fly aimlessly throughout his head. He wished the voice would go away, leave him alone, and let him sleep. His body was tired, actually scratch that, it was exhausted, and even the simple thought of trying to understand that word, Dean, drained him of energy.

"Dean." The voice came again, bringing Dean back to awareness, the word finally having meaning, it was his name… and it was Bobby who was saying it. _Bobby, leave me alone, shit my side hurts_. Dean tried to say, but to avail. He tried again, only managing to move his lips, it seemed as though his voice simply wouldn't "turn on".

"Dean, you in there? Open your eyes." Bobby begged. The past few days had succeeded in thoroughly scaring the old hunter, with such words as surgery, nitric acid poisoning, blood transfusion, incubation, cyanosis, and even death, being thrust into his ears, he had every right to be scared. However, he had to thank Castiel, the angel hospitalized in room 111, for hearing all of these words instead of just one word- death.

Dean struggled to follow the command, but it seemed as though his eyes were like concrete bricks, making it nearly impossible to fulfill Bobby's request. However, he knew that he should give some sort of indication that he was at least aware that Bobby was talking to him, so he let out a groan, which led to a small cry of pain as his side exploded in pain.

"Dean, you okay? Come on boy, open your eyes for Uncle Bobby."

Finally, Dean's eyes fluttered open to half mast, glassy with pain and fever, and then firmly shut once again as light pierced his skull, sending it pounding. He let out a quiet moan of pain and slowly tried to bring his hands up to his skull, but stopped instantly when his shoulder wound once again made itself known.

"Where're you hurtin', Dean?" Bobby question upon seeing Dean's pain expression and hearing his agonized moan.

"M'fine." Was Dean's clipped and hoarse reply.

"Fine my ass, tell me what's hurtin' you, or I swear that I'll personally slap you."

"Head, side, and shoulder… side's the worst. What happened?" Dean asked.

"You went a few rounds with a burglar, that's what happened. And why didn't you have a gun, idjit"

"Forgot." Dean said before remember one very important thing... Sam!

Dean began to sit up, but Bobby easily- almost too easily- pushed him back down.

"Lemme go, Bobby! I gotta find Sammy!" Dean yelled frantically trying to get Bobby off of him.

"Boy, calm down. Sam will be fine, slow down a little before you hurt yourself more."

"Bobby, h-he w-was so sick, I gotta help him, please Bobby." Dean begged desperately. He needed to see Sam himself, know that he was still in one piece.

"Stop your squirming or I'll have a nurse sedate your ass."

"Bobby... p-p-please." Dean pleaded once more before passing out, his whole body going limp on top of the pristine, white hospital sheets.

"Damn, idjit." Bobby mumbled to himself while pressing the call button and plopping back down in his plastic chair next to Dean.

The nurse came running in, slowing when she saw that her patient wasn't near death or in need of immediate care.

"What's up?" She asked, walking over to the old, grizzled man whom she'd come to know well over the past few days.

"Dean woke up, seemed sort of out of it, and he was in pain... just wanted to make sure he's okay." Bobby replied while taking off his worn cap and running his rough hand over his thinning hair.

"Alright, I'll give him a quick once over, while you get something to eat... don't think I haven't noticed." She raised her eyebrows her concern.

"I'm fine, I'll get something later." Bobby insisted.

"Don't give me that, you need to eat, or else you'll be sittin' in the hospital too, now tell me how that will help Sam and Dean?" She questioned.

"Kate, don't worry, I'll eat later, I promise." Bobby said, leading to an eye roll from Kate.

"Bobby Singer, I swear, you are the most stubborn man in the world."

Kate was now pulling away the gauze covering Dean's side, inspecting the stitches and making sure that everything was still intact.

"Naw, that award would go to any one of the Winchesters', you'll see soon enough," Bobby chuckled, "Any news on Sam?"

Kate pushed the gauze back down on top of Dean's wound and sighed, turning to Bobby with a semi sad expression on her delicate face.

"Not much, the nitric acid really took a toll on his body, its a wonder that he's still alive, no to mention the pneumonia, although words going around that the antibiotics are doing their job." She explained and patted Bobby shoulder in reassurance, "If he's as stubborn as you say, he'll pull through, don't worry."

"Is Dean good?" Bobby asked, trying to change the subject from the youngest Winchester.

"Well, his fever's up a little, and I'm going to have the doctor come in to check on his shoulder, but other than that, he seems fine. And the fever could simply have been caused by straining his body when he woke up." Kate explained.

"Thanks, Kate." Bobby smiled as Kate pushed away from his should and started walking towards the door.

"Don't forget to eat Bobby, or I'll make you do it myself... through a tube." She threatened as the door slammed shut.

"You have to wake up, Dean, the nurses are HOT." Bobby whispered to Dean.

_**(Inside Dean's Head)**_

_"Sammy! Sam! Where are you?" Dean shouted, his voice was hoarse and his throat felt like someone had coated it with salt, but he had to find Sam._

_"SAM!"_

_Suddenly, Sam appeared in front of him, he had blood smeared around his mouth and his arms were wrapped firmly around his stomach, making him hunched over, his body rigid with pain. He swayed and nearly collapsed, but Dean grabbed him around the waist before he hit the floor. He sat down and pulled Sam's head into his lap, brushing away bangs from fever riddled eyes._

_" Sammy, Sammy,what's wrong?"Dean desperately questioned as Sam's eyes began to slide shut._

_"D'n, help me... h-hurts."Sam begged._

_"How, how can I help? What hurts, Sam?" Dean pleaded._

_"Love you... go-od b-bye." Sam shuddered and coughed into his hand, coloring it a deep red, then his eyes rolled back in his head, as his breathing stopped with his heart._

_"No! Sammy! Wake up! SAM! Don't leave me, please!" Dean cried... his brother was gone, dead! He cried until tears no longer came, tears of sadness and loneliness streaming down his face. He couldn't continue, he couldn't and wouldn't live without his Sammy... my Sam, that's where his little brother's nickname came in. From the moment that Dean had seen Sam, he had claimed him as his own... mine, my Sammy. But now his Sammy was gone, and that just couldn't happen._

_Then, out f nowhere a gun appeared, and not just any gun... Dean's favorite gun. Without hesitation, he aimed it at his temple and fired._

**(Real World)**

Two alarms blared in the hospital, breaking the deathly silence, and they belonged to no other than Sam and Dean Winchester.

Sam's had came first, sending doctors and nurses alike rushing to the ICU. Dean's had came next, Bobby oblivious to it in the hospital cafeteria, only one nurse was left in the small hospital to attend to him... Kate, but the second that her eyes laid on the flat line on the monitor, she froze, and simply stared... TBC

_So, what did you think? Was it stupid, or good? Let me know... it only takes one click and plus come on, it's all we ask for in return for writing. Please? Even one word will do. I hope you liked this chapter, and I'm open for requests on how this should go... I'm thinking like maybe three more chapters, but I'm not entirely sure. Anywho, thanks again for reading and I hope to see you real soon. -twiandsuperfan_


	14. Chapter 14

First off, I think I owe everyone here an apology. Truth be told, I did stop writing this story, but after rereading all the reviews, I simply couldn't end the story where it was. So, I now present to you the finishing chapter. So sorry for the long wait. -Twiandsupefan

**Chapter 13**

In the reflection of the monitor stood a man and a woman, hands intertwined between them. The look on their faces conveyed a deep worry, yet love still shined through their eyes.

Kate spun around quickly, wondering how this couple had entered Dean's room without her knowledge. The man was walking towards Dean's bed, but the woman seemed to have disappeared.

"What do you think you're doing in here? How did you get in?" Kate demanded.

The man looked in her direction, but just shook his head with a slight smirk on this face. The man was now standing next to Dean, reaching out a grizzled hand towards his head.

"Sir! If you don't step away now, I'm afraid I'll have to call security!" Kate threatened.

At that moment, Bobby came racing into the room, having heard the loud, shrill beep of the monitor. His coffee cup dropped to the floor, landing with a shatter.

"J-John?" Bobby stuttered.

"Do you know this man?" Kate questioned.

Bobby replied by a slight head bob, still staring dumbfounded at John as he laid his hand on Dean's forehead.

(Meanwhile in Dean's head)

"_Dean!" John shouted, leaning over his son who was bathed in blood. Sam lay next to him, with Mary crouched by his side._

"_Dad?" Dean questioned when he came to. His head killed and all he wanted to do was sleep. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear his cloudy vision._

"_I'm here, Dean. Can you sit up?" _

_Dean pushed with his arms, but fell back down, weak and trembling. He shook his head no and hoped that his father would understand._

"_That's alright kiddo. I've got you." _

_John moved behind Dean and slowly sat him up. Dean moaned against the pain in his head and side. Once vertical, his head swam with dizziness and he couldn't help the whimper that escaped his lips. He leaned his head into his dad's chest and grasped onto his shirt for support. _

"_You okay, champ?" John hesitated, worried at how weak his son seemed to be. This would definitely complicate his plans._

"_Don' feel good, dad." Dean panted into his father's chest. _

"_I know you don't son, but you have to be strong… for Sammy." _

_With the mention of Sammy, Dean's head shot up, eyes searching for his brother. Sammy needed him! His eyes fell upon his brother first. He was lying on the ground, face pale as a ghost except for the blood surrounding his mouth. Dean's heart skipped a beat when he saw his mother crouching next to Sam. It was evident that his mother was worried, and that had Dean scared._

"_Dad, what happened? What do I have to do?" Dean begged._

"_Sam is sick, Dean, try to remember." John prompted. _

_Sick? Dean tried to remember. He dug deep into his memories, shuffling through the muck that was clouding his brain, until he finally remembered. He remembered the night in the motel when Sam had started getting sick, he remembered stopping at the gas station, he remembered the burglary and all that happened afterwards… he remembered the dream he had about shooting himself in the head. _

"_Dad, am I dead? Is Sammy dead?" Dean questioned._

_John sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, trying to decide the correct words._

"_No, Dean, not yet. You and your brother flat lined, but you still have a chance. You can easily come out of this, …but… your brother is going to need some help."_

"_What kind of help?" Dean was suspicious, this was his father, of that he was sure, but what could save him and his brother from death?_

"_Mary?" John spoke, beckoning to his wife._

_Mary sighed, but stood, looking down at Sam with sorrow filled eyes. It seemed to take every ounce of strength to move her eyes from Sam. She looked at Dean, still supported by John's arms, and couldn't help but be proud of her Dean. She walked over to them and took a seat beside her son._

"_Dean?" Mary asked as she placed a delicate hand onto Dean's cheek. She frowned slightly at the heat she felt under her baby's skin._

"_Mom? What do I have to do? What do I have to do to save Sammy?" Dean asked in soft, yet strong voice. _

"_You have to try to wake him up. If you can get him to wake up, he'll live… you'll live. Be strong, honey." Mary stroked Dean's cheek and rose, offering him a hand for support._

_Dean nodded, waking his brother up would be easy… right? He'd done it a million times, and now was no different. "Be strong" he echoed to himself. He grasped his mother's hand and with some help from his dad, he was standing and making his way to his sick little brother, to his Sammy…_

(Back in the hospital)

Bobby was amazed at what he was seeing. John was no longer by Dean's bedside, but a light was glowing around Dean like none he had seen before. The light twisted and danced all along Dean's body, and as it did, Dean's heartbeat slowly returned to normal. And his eyes slowly began to peel open.

"Go check on Sam!" Bobby ordered Kate.

"But-" Kate began.

"Now!"

Kate cringed at the loud tone of Bobby's voice, but turned and quickly made her way out of the room.

When she reached Sam's room, she was amazed to find that his heartbeat was normal and that his temperature was down to 102.3, far below his temperature of 105.8 from just under an hour ago. Kate had never been a believer in miracles, but this, this truly was a miracle. And as she stood, looking upon the sickly young man, she saw his eyes begin to blink as if to open. She sunk to her knees and started to sob in disbelief.

**THE END**


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